


The Break-In

by someonesaveme



Category: K (Anime), K-Project
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Past, kid!fushimi, little fushimi, teen!izumo, teen!mikoto, teen!totsuka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonesaveme/pseuds/someonesaveme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Totsuka's in trouble. He's hurt and bleeding and hiding in an abandoned mansion. However, turns out, the mansion isn't really abandoned. Say, what's this kid doing here all alone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In LSW, they tell us that the door to the Fushimi household isn’t locked because once upon a time someone broke into the house while little baby Saru was all alone and, being the absolutely wondrous parents they are, Kisa and Niki decided that it was too much of a hassle to have to come back and talk to the police and (god forbid) see their child every time something like a break-in occurre so they just decided to leave the door unlocked and unguarded and kept “nothing of any importance” in their house so that there was nothing to steal (ofc, they kept their freaking son there all alone, no problem). So yeah, this was borne out of that little tidbit. 
> 
> When I think of kid!Fushimi, somehow what I picture is like this mix of tiny Shinoa (OnS) and tiny Yoon (AnY). Like, Yoon especially fits so well. But Shinoa because of her having a very similar home situation as Saru. So that’s how I wrote him.
> 
> Ages are roughly: Fushimi is about 9/10 and in elementary school. Totsuka is 13/14 and in middle school. Mikoto is 15, high school. Izumo is 17, high school. 
> 
> Also, I’ll have to figure out a reason why they don’t remember each other. I’m working on it.

Totsuka was in trouble. He was bleeding, he was bruised, he was pretty sure his left index finger was fractured, there was a nasty gash that he could still feel gushing blood on his thigh (luckily, his jeans were tight today and kept it kind of under control), his head throbbed, and there were some pretty nasty men chasing after him. 

 _King sure knows how to make enemies, huh?_ he thought as he turned into another alleyway. 

He ran to the end of the alley and made a right onto the street, pushing by a few people who were still out. Totsuka didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he needed to get there _fast_. He was in trouble. Big trouble.

Him, King, and Kusanagi had been visiting the next town over to pick up some new thing that Totsuka had had his eye on. Kusanagi had offered to get it for him as an early birthday present, seeing as it was moderately expensive. Totsuka tried to remember what exactly it was, but it was no good. His head hurt too much every time he tried to concentrate on anything. They’d split up because Totsuka had wanted to go look around the store, and the next thing he knew he’d been dragged out by three men and beaten to a pulp. 

He hoped King and Kusanagi weren’t freaking out.

He hoped they’d find him. 

But clearly, there wasn’t anything for them to do for him right now. Right now, it was all up to him. So he kept running down the street.

But there’s only so much he can do with his injured body. He slipped and fell halfway down the street and he knew there was no way he would be able to run anymore. He’d lost the thugs at the alley, but they couldn’t be far behind. He had to hide. But there was nowhere to do that either. There were no dark corners as far as the eye could see. He’d fallen right on a street full of houses. The one right next to him had to be the biggest, most ornate house he’d ever seen. 

And it looked abandoned.

Vines grew up the sides of the walls and on the gates. There was dust on everything. The windows looked unclean. There were no cars in the drive, no lights on, no signs of life.

_Should I take the chance?_

The voices behind him decided for him and Totsuka hauled himself up and to the door. He gets ready to have to smash through a window, but to his surprise his attempt on the doorknob worked. The knob turned easily and the door gave way. Totsuka slipped in, not believing his good luck.

 _The house really must be abandoned, huh?_ he thought to himself.

Except…

In his concussion induced haze, he could have sworn he heard a tiny little door slam. He looked in the direction of the noise and saw nothing but a giant kitchen and a bunch of cabinets.

_In the cabinet? Maybe not, it’s kinda small. But if so…_

Totsuka wondered if he’d been wrong in thinking the place was abandoned. If so, he’d most likely be hearing police sirens in a few minutes. Well, he figured the police were better than the thugs. Of course, he could always just be kicked out and left there for the thugs. However, for some reason, he had the feeling that neither of those things were going to happen. Somehow, he was sure he was okay here. That no one would call anyone on him. 

He could feel himself losing consciousness and he barely had enough energy to lean on a wall and slowly slump to the floor. 

“Um,” he called out, wanting to say something just in case, “I’m really sorry about this but if someone is living here, could you just let me stay for a bit? I’m not in the best of shapes, you see. My friends will be coming for me, but uh… they’ll be a little while. I just need some rest, I promise I won’t touch anything. Thank you for…”

His words slurred incomprehensibly after that. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say anymore. He blacked out, still mumbling.

* * *

 

There was a harsh knock on the door that woke Totsuka up. 

_Dad?_

“Is he in there or not?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? Wait.”

_Oh. Not dad._

Another knock. And this time, Totsuka jumped up into sitting position. He wasn’t out for too long then, if these thugs were still looking for him here. Crap, what was he going to do? It was only a matter of time before they tried the door. Or broke it down completely. He couldn’t stay here, but the thought of moving…

Totsuka looked around for a quick way out, but this was just a normal living room. There was little hope of there being a trap door or something he could slip out of. 

 _Looks like I’m in real trouble this time,_ he thought,  _King, Kusanagi-san, if you could please hurry?”_

Suddenly, something draped over him. 

_A curtain?_

Weakly, he pulled it aside just enough to create a small opening so he could see out of one eye. He saw a child. Small. Couldn’t have been more than seven. The child plodded to the door. His back was turned so Totsuka couldn’t see his face, but he was sure the child’s hand trembled a little before gripping the doorknob. 

Totsuka wanted to warn the kid, but the door was already open.

The man at the door, gigantic and muscular, jolted a little. He was obviously not expecting a child to answer. After his initial surprise, he kneeled down and adjusted his tone. 

“H-hey kid, we got some questions, can we come in?”

The child shook his head, completely silent.

“Move it, brat! Let us through!” one of the other men yelled. The child shrunk into himself and hid behind the door a little. 

“Shut up!” the man in the front roared, “We ain’t here to scare kids!”

He turned back to the child and, adjusting his tone again, asked, “Are your–um–are your parents home?”

Another silent head shake.

“There’s some blood on your porch. You know where that came from?”

Another head shake.

The man sighed and said, “Okay, okay. Um, did you happen to see a guy? Blonde? Uh…”

Another head shake, but this time it was accompanied with, “It’s just me here today.”

The man must have been as surprised as as Totsuka was at hearing the child speak because he didn’t respond for a minute. 

“Ok, um, did you see anything? Anything from your window maybe? Not a lot of people come down this street, maybe you noticed something weird?”

The child moved to shake his head again, but paused. There was no noise for a while until–

“A car.”

The man perked up. “A car? What car?”

“Blue,” the child responded.

“Blue. Ok. Anything else? Where did it go? Did you see?”

At that, the child slipped past the man and went outside. Totsuka supposed it was to point at a direction. Totsuka held his breath. If this worked, he could be home free. If not, he’d have to find a way to get the little boy to safety at least. It was possible he could convince them to let the child go. The ringleader seemed to have a weakness for children. He could tell them he’d employed the boy and that he’d had nothing to do with it.

But it looked as if the deception worked because he heard the ringleader bark out some orders and thank the boy before he heard the gang’s feet pounding away from the house. 

A minute later, he heard the door shut, the lock click and the pattering of little feet move towards him. They stopped halfway and went the other diirection before coming back again. This time, the curtain was yanked off him and Totsuka had to blink and adjust to the light. His vision focused and he was finally able to see the face of his rescuer…

…and a knife. Pointed right at him.

“Haha. Hey there,” he mumbled, still a little disoriented, “How you doing? Ah, thanks for the save. That could’ve been bad, you know.”

The kid said nothing. He didn’t look as frightened as Totsuka imagined either. In fact, more than anything else, he looked exasperated and wary. At hearing Totsuka’s words and laugh, he sighed and walked away a short distance to put the knife on a nearby coffee table before returning. 

Totsuka heard him mutter as he walked back, “Another one of _that guy’s_ jokes, huh?”

Totsuka wondered who ‘that guy’ was and what kind of joke involved so much blood and fear, but he said nothing. Instead, he let the child get close to him and inspect his head wound. The kid tipped his head forward a bit and just looked for a few seconds before putting one finger against the wound and pushing down slightly. Totsuka hissed and the child quickly let go and took a few steps backwards. Totsuka could see that he was a little more scared now than before, though he hid it admirably for someone his age. 

“Hey,” the boy said after a little while, his eyes widening in shock, “You’re… actually bleeding…”

“Haha,” Totsuka laughed, “Yeah, I am. It kind of hurts too.”

The child bent down further and looked Totsuka right in the eye. “You’re… you’re really hurt? They were really after you?”

“Ah, yep and yep.”

The child squinted his eyes, as if looking for a lie. It felt a little weird to Totsuka, even he’d never have the gall to joke about _this_ , but he stayed silent and met the other's eyes. Finally, the child straightened up, fear evident now even if he tried to hide it. 

“Whatever,” he muttered, “Leave.”

Totsuka supposed that was more than fair. He had far overstayed his welcome, after all. In fact, he’d never been welcomed to begin with. He grappled with the wall behind him and tried to stand on his good leg.

However, it was pointless. His legs refused to cooperate. He hit the floor after getting only about 4 inches off. But he’d been told to leave and the danger had supposedly passed. He really did need to get going. Totsuka sucked in his gut and tried again; this time, he attempted to put some weight onto his injured leg.

Which was a mistake. He felt a sharp, hot jab that blackened the edge of his vision. He broke out into sweat and immediately started shaking. He screamed in pain, unable to help it, and was vaguely aware of the child next to him jumping. 

“Ok, ok, I get it! Stop!” the child cried as he tried to drag Totsuka back down by his sweaty hand. He didn’t have to try too hard, Totsuka went down like a bag of bricks. He felt himself slipping out of consciousness again, the pain proving to be too much. 

Suddenly, he felt cool metal press up against one of his hands. He blinked and forced himself to focus on the words being said to him, hand curling around a metal rectangle.

“You said you had friends, right?” the child asked, pushing a PDA into Totsuka’s hand, “Call’em. Call’em and get out.”

Totsuka was touched–aware, even in his condition, that he’d been shown a kindness–and smiled at the child.

“What’s your name?” Totsuka asked, slurring his words. It was a short sentence though and the point got across. 

The child looked a bit startled for a brief moment at the personal inquiry, blue eyes getting wide behind his glasses and mouth opening. And then the moment passed and he promptly scowled. “Like I’m telling _you_. Hurry up and call.”

Totsuka chuckled, but began to dial numbers. However, the screen and the small numbers proved to be too much and he felt himself slipping away just as he hit the ‘call’ button. 

“Kusanagi speaking.”

“H-hi…”

“Totsuka? Totsuka, that you? Hey! Answer me, you little shit! Where the hell are you?!”

“H-Hey! Don’t pass out! Finish your call! Hey!”

“I-it’s fine,” Totsuka said, not sure if it was aimed towards his panicking friend or the panicking child, “It’s fine…It’ll all…work out.”

“Totsuka?!”

“Hey, hold it!”

* * *

 

_To Be Continued?_

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

Kusanagi and Mikoto quickly rounded the corner. After Totsuka had fainted on the phone, someone else had picked it up and given them an address before immediately hanging up. Luckily, the pair hadn’t been too far from the address given. Ten minutes, at the pace they’d set. They’d both been bone tired from searching all day for their missing friend–even Mikoto was beginning to show signs of wear. And panic. You’d never know it just looking at him, but Izumo knew his friend better than most. They were both about as out of their minds as they’d ever be and about as tired too. But they had a lead now and simple exhaustion wasn’t going to slow them down one bit. At this point, they were practically sprinting towards the mystery address. 

Izumo sent a prayer to every god he knew that he’d find the kid relatively unharmed. The second voice had been soft and a bit tentative, but Izumo knew that that could very well mean nothing. Sonft voices didn’t always mean a soft touch. He didn’t even want to imagine Totsuka’s state of health right now. Instead, he concentrated on running as fast as he could.

<destination is on your right>

Izumo held out his hand to signal Mikoto and then shut off his GPS. Mikoto skidded to a halt right next to him. He shut off his GPS and turned to take a look at where Totsuka was (supposedly, hopefully) being held. 

It was a mansion. A bona-fide, marble cut mansion. Under any other circumstances, Izumo would’ve let out an impressed whistle. 

But circumstances being what they were, he just ~~fruitlessly~~ motioned at Mikoto to be careful. The mansion looked abandoned enough, but who the hell knew what was inside?

Mikoto apparently did not share his friend’s trepidation and stomped right up to the door. His fist hit the door three times with loud ‘bangs’. Izumo put his face in his hands for a brief second, lamenting his lack of sensible friends, and prepared himself for the worst.  

“Who is it?” a soft voice squeaked from behind the door.

IIzumo immediately identified it as the voice on the phone. He nodded at Mikoto and moved to speak to said voice.

“Kinda silly to invite us all the way here and then ask who we–”

Izumo never got to finish. Mikoto’s foot crashed into the doorknob and the door flew open. A small shriek could be heard from the inside. Luckily, the street was completely empty and it was getting dark so there were no witnesses. 

“Well,” Izumo drawled with a sigh, “There’s always that option, I suppose…”

Mikoto marched in through the door, Izumo only two steps behind him.

Which means he crashed right into Mikoto when the red-head froze two feet in. Izumo looked over his friend’s shoulder to see what had stopped him so suddenly. He didn’t know whether he hoped that it was Totsuka or if he hoped that it wasn’t.

“Mikoto, what gives—oh…”

Well, it wasn’t Totsuka. Instead, laying on the floor, having been blown back by Mikoto’s attack on the door, and staring up at the two men was the owner of the voice they’d heard. It was starting to make sense to Izumo why the voice was so soft.

 _Crap_.

Izumo waved at the skinny little kid on the floor, which only caused the child to scramble back and cower against a banister. Wide, terrified blue eyes never left Mikoto and had only caught the sudden movement out of his peripheral vision so it had spooked him.

“H-hey, kid,” Izumo said awkwardly, “Erm, sorry about the door? You happen to see a friend of ours somewhere around here?”

* * *

Totsuka was laid out on the floor of the living room, a little ways further into the house. A sheet had been draped over him, which the child yanked off upon reaching him. The first thing Izumo noticed was the blood. Totsuka’s clothes were in tatters and whatever was still left on him was covered in blood. His leg looked the worst of all and was seeping blood through the roughly tied bandage, but the wound on his head was what worried Izumo. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the blood caked in Totsuka’s hair and on his face told Izumo that that hadn’t always been the case. He tentatively moved to unwrap the sloppy bandage on his young friend’s head.

“L-look, if you’re gonna take him, just take him. Go now an I won’t even call the cops,” a small voice behind Izumo squeaked. 

Izumo was almost impressed by the bravado the kid was showing. He’d have thought the kid would’ve run off screaming by now.

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna need to check his head wound first,” he replied. He’d usually not apologize for needing to do such a thing, but this was a child. A child they’d thoroughly terrified enough in one day. A child whose home they were currently occupying. 

“I-I don’t care about that! Or him! Get him out!”

Izumo didn’t answer, just slowly peeled the last of the bandages off Totsuka’s head. From somewhere behind Izumo, Mikoto huffed.

“Don’t care, huh?” Mikoto drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice, “That why you bandaged up all his wounds?”

Izumo whipped his head around to look at the kid, who had turned bright red and had stuttered indignantly at the question.

“You did these?” he asked, awed. 

He’d figured the child was no more than six or seven, but obviously he must have been wrong if he’d been able to do bandages. And clean wounds. And administer basic first aid. The bandage was a bit sloppy and obviously done by someone who lacked experience, but it had been properly tied all the same. And the wounds looked like they’d all been cleaned, with only the leg wound still bleeding. The kid had even cut the pant leg open to reach the gash. 

The kid didn’t meet Izumo’s eyes, just said, ”He was bleeding all over the floor, that’s all. I just didn’t want him to keep making a mess. It was annoying…”

Izumo didn’t bother to point out that Totsuka was _still_ bleeding on his floor and that the fastest way to get rid of him would’ve been to call the cops.

Instead, he just smiled and said, “Now, now, don’t be like that. Let the good deed speak for itself.”

The kid looked indignant again and turned his head away to avoid looking Izumo in the eyes.

“Thank you,” Izumo said.

The kid tensed up, but didn’t lift his head.

“Really. Thank you.”

The kid clicked his tiny tongue at that and said, “Why are you thanking me? You weren’t the one I bandaged.”

“Well,” Izumo said, “When he wakes up, I’ll make him give you a proper thank you, alright?”

“Don’t want it. Just get him out once he wakes.”

 _So now we have until he wakes, huh?_ Izumo wondered cheerfully. He was starting to get the oddest feeling that this kid was somehow on their side, even if he was a grouch about it.

The kid must have caught the look Izumo was giving him and got even more flustered. 

“Hey,” Mikoto said, moving next to Izumo, “Want me to grab him?”

Izumo shook his head and was about to answer before he heard Totsuka groan underneath him.

“Tosuka?”

“Hmmmm… Kusanagi-san… hey…”

Izumo breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey, stupid. How you feeling?”

Totsuka opened his mouth and sat up to respond, but gagged instead. He clasped his hands over his mouth. Immediately, there was a small wastebasket shoved in front of him and Totsuka wasted no time making good use of it. To Izumo’s surprise, the one who was holding it was neither him nor Mikoto–it was the kid. Somehow he slipped by both of them while they’d been distracted.

“Good,” the kid snipped, “It was about time you woke up too.”

The kid sent a sharp glance over at Izumo and said, “He was in and out the first couple of minutes, before you guys got here. All he does is vomit every time. See? It’s annoying.”

“Pft,” Izumo snorted, “I didn’t ask, kid. Ahhh, but this complicates matters. We _definitely_ won’t be able to move him in this state.”

The kid turned red at Izumo’s words and turned his attention back to the vomiting Totsuka, but said nothing in response. 

_Heh, cute brat._

“You know, if we moved him, he could die…”

The kid stiffened up and side-eyed Izumo. He was clearly still annoyed, but there was something more tentative and hesitant in the way he held himself.

Totsuka stopped gagging and coughing for long enough to look up at Izumo, who sent his younger friend a wink. Totsuka caught on pretty quickly to what was happening and smiled softly. 

“Whaaat?” Totsuka whined once he was able to, “I don’t wanna die…”

“I don’t know, Totsuka. You feel up for moving?”

“Ugh, no no, please. It still reeeaaally hurts.”

The kid’s grip on the wastebasket tightened.

“Mikoto, you gonna be able to carry him gently?”

Mikoto snorted. Izumo was unsure of whether or not he’ caught on, but he was pretty sure he knew what Mikoto’s response would be either way.

“Nope. Don’t do gentle.”

“King!” Totsuka exclaimed, “I don’t wanna die!”

“Now, now,” Izumo butted in, keeping an eye on their little host’s growing tension, “We’ll just have to find a place to stay.”

“Nowhere to stay around here. Least, nowhere we could afford,” Mikoto said bluntly. Izumo was pretty sure he’d caught on at this point, but with Mikoto it was hard to tell sometimes.

He wasn’t lying, in any case.

“Why don’t you go to a hospital?” the kid beside Izumo murmured. 

“I don’t have enough money for that,” Totsuka sighed.

“And I imagine the authorities would have to get involved in that case…”

Izumo didn’t know which group it was that targeted their little trio’s weakest this time, but he could pretty much bet money on the fact that it was someone that Mikoto’d beaten up in the past. If that kind of thing came to light…

And besides, Totsuka’s first hospital trip had practically left him bankrupt. He really couldn’t afford another one. 

“What?” the kid asked, “You guys criminals or something?”

“Well,” Izumo said, “Not exactly. We kinda got caught up in a bit of a mess though.”

The kid looked more panicked than Izumo was comfortable with now. His eyes were wide and looking right at Izumo and his hands were shaking.

“Hey, hey,” he said, putting his open hands out in front of him and trying for comforting, “None of that. We’re not wanted men or anything. We were just caught in the middle of a scuffle. Nothing too bad. Just want a chance to settle this ourselves, is all.”

The kid’s eyes narrowed, suspicious now.

“Hehe, do I really look like a criminal?” Totsuka asked, finally able to pick his head up without vomiting. 

The kid rolled his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “You look more like gross ground up beef than anything else.”

“Aww. That’s harsh.”

Totsuka moved to sit up more fully and accidentally jostled his leg. He yelped and would’ve fallen over had Mikoto not shot his arms forward and caught him. 

 “Hey!” the kid yelled, “Don’t-don’t do that!”

Totsuka, despite himself, chuckled weakly.

“Well, I’m gonna have to leave soon anyways. I’ll have to just get used to it. Caaaan’t be helped…”

The kid bit his lower lip and stiffened again. Izumo had a niggling feeling he sort of knew he was being played, which might explain his refusal to respond. Totsuka must have felt the same.

“Thank you,” Totsuka said clearly. Somehow his voice cleared of all pain and amusement and had turned totally serious despite the soft smile still on his face. He was looking right at the kid, who couldn’t help but look back.

“Thank you for helping me up to this point. The bandages are much appreciated.”

The kid flushed, his entire face going red. He opened and shut his mouth a couple of times before saying in a tiny, almost shy voice, “If you were awake for that then you should have said something.”

“Hm?” Totsuka hummed, the light quality returning to his voice, “But I didn’t wanna ruin the moment. It felt nice, being treated like that. You’ve got soft hands, you know.”

The kid’s face got impossibly redder and Izumo felt the ice break.

“Hey,” Izumo said, finally feeling safe asking, “What’s your name?”

“… Fushimi…”

“Fushimi–?”

“…”

“… Alrighty. Just Fushimi then.”

Izumo half expected the kid to ask their names, but instead he stayed silent and looked to be arguing with himself.

Finally, the kid sighed and said, “I _do_ have parents you know? They’ll be back eventually. If you guys get caught here, don’t expect me to cover for you.”

Totsuka and Izumo both smiled and Mikoto huffed again. 

“Thank you, really.”

The kid–Fushimi–just hmmphed at Izumo and turned to go up the stairs. 

“The upstairs bedrooms are all taken or locked. You’ll have to stay here. I don’t have any sleeping bags either, just blankets and stuff. Bathroom’s down the hall,” he pointed, “that way. First aid kit and blankets are in there too. Kitchen’s right in front of you. Whatever food my maid made is in the fridge. I won’t eat it so feel free That’s all you’ll need, right? I’m going to my room, don’t bother me anymore.”

“Hey,” Mikoto called out, causing Fushimi to freeze mid-staircase.

Fushimi suddenly looked apprehensive. Izumo supposed he’d still not forgotten about the door. He silently made a promise to fix the door before leaving.

“Where _are_ your parents?”

Shit, right. In his relief, Izumo had all but forgotten to ask when they had to be out by. He been hoped for an extra few hours; maybe the parents were out for a date night seeing as it was already pretty late and they weren’t back yet. But it’d probably be a good idea for them to fix that door, get Totsuka into some sort of shape to be moved, and skedaddle. 

Fushimi paused for a minute before clicking his tongue again. 

“Relax. I have no idea where they are, but I’m betting it’s another week or so before that guy’s due back. And his wife went off to the States or something. You’ve got time,” he sounded almost caustic when saying it, the bitterness dampened only by the matter-of-fact way he'd said it.

Izumo didn’t miss how the kid hadn’t referred to either of his parents by ‘mom’ or ‘dad’. That didn’t sit well with him. 

“A little young to be left all alone, ain’t you?” Izumo couldn't help but ask.

Fushimi shrugged one shoulder and replied, “I’m almost ten, actually, and we’ve got a maid who watches me. Though I don’t see how it’s any of your business. I’m not lying to you, you’ve got plenty of time to get your friend back into shape.”

Fushimi paused again, remembering something.

“Right, the maid. She comes every weekday. It’s Friday though so I guess you’ve still got the weekend.”

Izumo didn’t know what to say to that. He got the feeling his sympathy would not be welcomed by Fushimi. Still, that’s too much. He wasn’t any more than a kid, no matter which way Izumo looked at it. If he had parents, shouldn’t at least one of them have stuck around? Or at least hired a nanny instead of just a day maid?

But it really wasn’t any of Izumo’s business. And as hateful as he found it, it really did work in his favor right now. 

Fushimi, having apparently decided the conversation was over, turned and resumed walking up the stairs. 

“Thanks again, kid!” Izumo yelled, wanting to say _something_ nice at least.

His response was a door quietly clicking shut.

* * *

Izumo was shaken awake at around 5 AM. Groggy and still tired, he barely managed to make out the slight form of Fushimi in front of him.

“Get up! Get up!”

“Wh-wha?”

“That guy’s back early. I don’t know why. You’ve got to leave. You’ve got to leave _NOW_!”

**_SLAM_ **

“Monkey~! Daddy’s home, didn’t you miss me? Oh? What happened to the door? Naughty, naughty little monkey.”

* * *

_TBC_

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re now kidnappers and Izumo is absolutely certain they’ll be arrested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, lol, Izumo and his contacts, man. I headcanon him as having quite a few even when he was young and just expanding them with age.

Fushimi jumped an actual mile and scrambled behind the coffee table Izumo had been sleeping behind. Mikoto blinked blearily from his place on the loveseat and reached over to shake Totsuka awake upon seeing the figure at he door. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Fushimi asked, valiantly trying to keep his chin up high. It was a good effort, but Izumo couldn’t help but notice his shaky legs and the way he’d tried and put the table perfectly between him and whoever that man was. 

Izumo assumed it was the father. He’d said ‘daddy’, right?

Which meant him and his friends were in for it. 

“Why, monkey,” Fushimi’s father(?) said, “Doesn’t a man have a right to come back to his own home? Now, where’s daddy’s hug?”

Fushimi flinched at the ‘monkey’ and didn’t move or make a sound. Izumo watched as his father sighed and feigned disappointment.

“We have guests, huh?”

Fushimi still said nothing. 

“Erm, hello,” Izumo said, “this really isn’t what it looks--”

“Ahh, too bad,” the father said, “Usually I’d listen to your excuses for breaking into my house, but today I’m in a bit of a bad mood. It’s late, I’m tired, and my own son won’t even hug me.”

Fushimi made a small discontented noise and Izumo snapped his mouth shut. It was like the man didn’t care at all that three strangers--two of them rather thug-like and one of them obviously severely injured--were currently in his house with his son. Izumo supposed that worked out for him, seeing as the police hadn’t been called yet, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of this situation. He could only sit and watch in silence. 

“If only I had a hug...”

Fushimi wrinkled his nose at the obvious manipulation, but tightened his jaw and slowly stepped around the table, eyes trained on his father the entire time as if he believed that if he looked away he’d be attacked. On his part, the man who Izumo assumed was Fushimi’s father stood at the doorway with a triumphant smile on his face.

Izumo couldn’t say why, but something about this exchange made him sick. Maybe it was the reluctance in Fushimi’s step or the resignation he’d seen in the child’s eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that something about the man at the doorway had simply rubbed him the wrong way from the start. But either way, Izumo wasn’t in a position to do much but watch the scene unfold. He prayed his two more impulsive friends would do the same.

Tatara couldn’t do much but groan anyways so there was little worry there, but Mikoto...

Izumo sent a stronger prayer to whatever deity was up at this hour. Mikoto rarely got involved and was hardly what Izumo would consider a good Samaritan, but the few times he had forcefully been involved in a situation, about 50% of them had involved small children in distress. And Fushimi was small, to be sure. And a child. And undoubtedly in distress no matter how brave a face he put on. 

Fushimi finally reached his father and held out his arms carefully...

...only to be swiftly scooped up and tossed a good three feet in the air before he was caught. He squeaked in shock just in time for it to happen a second time. The third time though, he was swung over the man’s shoulder as the guy started to bounce around making monkey noises.

“You fell for it! You fell for it~!” the man yelled, shrieking with laughter. 

Every bounce looked like it jostled Fushimi painfully as he was still slung over the shoulder like a sack of potatoes and he groaned every time his father’s feet hit the floor.

“Tsk, put me down!” Fushimi said irritably, less trepidatious now that the joke was already played and over with. 

“Pfffhaha, monkey got mad~” Fushimi’s father giggled as he...

...dropped the boy. Right on the floor. Fushimi fell on his butt with an ‘oof’. It hadn’t been a particularly bad fall, certainly not anything that’d cause lasting damage, but it still made Izumo shoot to his feet.

And he wasn’t the only one shocked it seemed.

“Oi,” Mikoto said, now on his feet as well, “The hell are you doing?”

“Well, well,” Fushimi’s dad said, stepping around his son who was rubbing his butt, “You’ve invited in some pretty _audacious_  guests, huh monkey? Judging father-son reunion after you were allowed to stay out of the kindness of our hearts.”

He giggled then said, “Then again, maybe you weren’t allowed? There’s nothing of value here, boys. Unless you’re here for monkey...”

Fushimi jolts as his father suddenly turns and moved in front of him, turned him around by his shoulders so he was facing the three teens, and started to lightly shake him as he said,

“His mother wouldn’t pay a cent for me, but this is her baby right? Wouldn’t any mother pay a pretty penny for their own child~?”

Fushimi’s face at his father’s words told Izumo that that clearly wasn’t true, but his father didn’t stop there.

“After all, what mother hates her own son? What parent wouldn’t want their darling little baby back in their arms? Woe be the child whose parents wouldn’t even pay ransom for, after all what is money to love? There’s no such thing as such an unwanted child. Right, _monkey_?”

Izumo gritted his teeth as the man hauled his son up and held him out in front of him, as if in an offering.

“Oh, don’t take my son!” he cackled as he pushed Fushimi closer to the trio and shook him back and forth like some rag doll, “Please, he’s my pride and joy! My everything! I’ll call the police! I will!”

Then, seemingly finding all this hilariously funny, the man doubled over in laughter. 

“HAHAHAHA--as if--HEHE--someone would--PFFT HAHA--say that about you, monkey!”

“Right? Am I right? Oh come on, give daddy some sugar!”

Fushimi made a single noise, a low whine. This shook Izumo out of his stupified trance and made him look at the kid. One look at Fushimi’s face, equal parts scrunched up and resigned, and Izumo lurched forward, ready to...

Well, he didn’t know. And he didn’t have to find out. Mikoto beat him to the punch. Literally. 

All Izumo registered was a flash of red and then blood everywhere. 

Mikoto had punched the guy. Right in the center of his face. Broke his nose too, if that crunch Izumo heard was anything to go by. Fushimi turned and watched with wide eyes as his father went flying and hit the ground behind him, almost out the door. There was silence between the four still-conscious inhabitants of the house for a full minute as they all collected themselves and registered what had happened. Then...

The words, “Why did you do that?!” weren’t even out of Fushimi’s mouth when Izumo scooped him up and ran out the door, followed by Mikoto with Tatara wrapped him his arms. 

* * *

“Child... kidnappers...” Izumo said, stopping between each word in order to catch his breath, “That’s what we are now, right? We kidnapped a child?”

“Yeah, looks like,” Mikoto said simply, tone indicating that he wasn’t sorry for his part in the least. Izumo almost growled.

“How did it come to this?! Mikoto, what in all hell were you thinking?!”

Mikoto shrugged. “Wasn’t thinking anything you weren’t.”

And Izumo had nothing to say to that. After all, he couldn’t say with absolute certainty that he hadn’t kicked the passed-out body on his way out. Hard.

“...what on earth were you thinking?” Fushimi repeated Izumo’s question, having finally caught his breath. His tone was like ice.

Mikoto raised an eyebrow. “He was giving you a tough time, wasn’t he? Besides, he said police so I reacted.”

“He wouldn’t have called the police! Anyone could’ve seen that! And this’ll just make things worse!” Fushimi practically shrieked at Mikoto. 

He’d seemed lightly annoyed from the second Izumo’d met him but he looked at the end of his rope at this point.

“W-well, well now,” Totsuka said, still cradled in Mikoto’s arms, “Let’s not fight, okay Fushimi-kun?”

“You zip it,” Izumo cut in, “I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”

And it was true. Izumo had finished up what Fushimi had started and stopped the leg wound from bleeding further. He’d also stitched and re-bandaged where he could. He’d also all but forced fluids down Totsuka’s throat, but there was only so much that could be done. The rest would require rest. And probably antibiotics.

The antibiotics--well--Izumo knew a guy. He could probably get Totsuka checked out there too. But Totsuka has _not_  been ready to be moved. 

“Well,” Izumo said, “You’ve got two options, Fushimi. You could come with us for a bit or you could go home. What’ll it be?”

Izumo felt a bit guilty at putting the kid in the limelight and forcing such an important decision on him, but the situation was what it was and Izumo was never good at the delicacy thing. Or the kids thing. Luckily, he felt Fushimi was the kind of kid who could handle hard situations with some form of grace. He’d handled having an injured guy and two delinquents in his house okay, after all.

Still, Izumo was aware that he’d listed no good options. And Fushimi didn’t feel bad at all pointing it out.

“So,” Fushimi said with a fresh scowl, “Unknown and _temporary_  solution one or shitty solution two.”

Izumo nodded slowly. 

Fushimi sighed and said, “Well, solution two is out. I’m not gonna be able to go back there for a good two weeks, _thanks a load_ \--”

Mikoto shrugged yet again and Fushimi almost growled at the nerve of him.

“--so it looks like I’m out of a house at least. But I’ll admit that I don’t like the thought of being forced into your problems _and then_ being forced to choose between two of your solutions. Especially seeing as they all end up bad for me. So.”

Fushimi looked back and forth in the alleyway the group had slipped in and then opened up his PDA to a map. 

“Looks like this is where we part ways. It’s been a good time and let’s not ever do it again,” Fushimi said with a tone of finality as he turned his back on the trio and gave his PDA his full attention.

_‘Wait. What?’_

“Hold it,” Izumo said, “I-you can’t just--Mikoto, say something.”

“You’re going?” Mikoto asked.

“Yep,” Fushimi said shortly, “Soon as I find what I’m looking for.”

“Oh, so you know where you’re going.”

“Something like that.”

“You gonna walk?”

“I got a monthly transport pass.”

“I see.”

Mikoto then apparently decided he’d said enough and looked over at Izumo who rapidly gestured for him to say something to dissuade the kid from this plan.

Mikoto nodded.

“Have a safe trip then.”

“Thanks.”

Izumo almost smacked him.

* * *

“So?” Fushimi asked, sounding extremely put upon, sitting at a bus stop on the seat furthest from the other three.

“So what?” Izumo answered.

“So why are you still following me?”

“Well,” Izumo said, “We’re not about to let some kid we dragged along with us just wander the streets alone at this time of night. It could be dangerous.”

“Aren’t you my kidnappers? _You lot_  arethe most dangerous things out here right now! And in any case, you’re being chased! That one was attacked! I’m in far more danger when I’m with you!”

Izumo couldn’t think of anything to counter those arguments with so he just said, “Well, it’s a good idea to employ the buddy system when in danger. Mikoto and Totsuka are buddies and you’re mine.”

“... are we in kindergarten? That’s so creepy.”

 _‘Calm down, calm down,’_  Izumo thought to himself, trying to maintain composure, ‘ _it’s just a kid_.’

“Yeah, Kusanagi-san,” Totsuka said uneasily, “That _is_ really creepy...”

_‘Calm down, calm down, it’s just Totsuka. And he’s injured. Injured.’_

Mikoto, deciding to make up for his earlier uselessness Izumo supposed, jumped in to the rescue.

“We don’t know the area.”

“There’s a GPS on your PDA, isn’t there?”

“We could wander around for hours looking for a place to crash and we can’t exactly get through the train station security with that one looking like that,” Izumo reasoned.

“There’s a search engine on your PDA, isn’t there? And following me isn’t gonna make him look less bloody.”

“We don’t have any way to get around,” Mikoto tried again.

“So what do you want me to do about that? If I give you enough for a bus fare, will you leave? And do you honestly expect me to believe that not a single one of you has enough for one measly bus ride?”

Izumo took a deep breath. This kid sure loved being difficult. In truth, Izumo supposed he could ruffle up somewhere to sleep until morning when he could dig through his contacts and find someone willing to give them a ride without any questions. But the thought of leaving this tiny kid all alone to fend for himself when they’d indeed been the ones to drag him into this mess...

Well, it didn’t feel right.

“We’re worried about you,” Totsuka said, breaking his silence at long last to try and reason with the kid, “And besides, it feels safer in your company, Fushimi. You seem like you know what you’re doing. It’s amazing.”

Fushimi whipped his head around and stared at Totsuka. His eyes narrowed into a glare, but Totsuka just kept smiling that stupidly gentle smile of his and the glare couldn’t hold. 

Just then, the bus arrived. It looked empty, which made sense given the time of night. Or morning, technically.

Fushimi got up and stomped up to the bus as the doors opened. He went up the first two steps. 

“Wait--” Izumo said, standing up to follow.

“Four passengers. Myself and three guest swipes,” drifted from inside the bus.

Totsuka giggled softly. 

Izumo, dumbfounded, went around to stand in front of the open doors just in time to see Fushimi dig into his pocket and bring out a bill for the driver.

“And here. This is if you shut up about the nasty looking one,” he said.

“Aww,” Totsuka groaned good-naturedly, “I was insulted, King.”

“Hm. I heard.”

Fushimi then turned and faced Izumo with a triumphant little glint in his eyes and his lips tugging upwards just a little.

“So, I guess you have two options: you could come tag along with me for a bit or go back to that alleyway.”

Izumo was still laughing as he climbed into the bus. 

* * *

_TBC_

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izumo is worried Mikoto and Totsuka are close to deciding to keep the kid. Izumo is worried he’s close to deciding to do the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The LSW side comic [FIRST CONTACT] is referenced super briefly. You don’t have to read it to understand the chapter.
> 
> Fushimi is a disrespectful lil shit so since I made him not totally terrified of Mikoto, he’s his relatively normal self instead. A tsun lil shit.

They were the only ones in the bus at this hour. 

“Sit tight,” Fushimi had said, “There’s a place at the last stop that _should_  help us. If not, there are motels around. Probably at least one will overlook the half dead guy. Probably…”

They had decided to cross that bridge when they got there. 

Fushimi sat with Mikoto. Across from them, Kusanagi checked over Totsuka’s bandages and retied the loose ones. According to Fushimi, there was about 30 to 45 minutes to go on the bus. Luckily, it looked like Totsuka would be able to make it now that he was able to rest and was no longer being jostled. But they would have to find him some place to lie down. And soon. The bus chairs were hardly good for that, although he insisted he was fine leaning on Kusanagi, and it wasn’t like it would be safe lying him on the floor of a moving bus. All that was left to do was wait, Kusanagi said. 

Mikoto hadn’t been very happy with that thought. Oddly enough, neither was Fushimi. Or rather, they were both very restless.

“I don’t know if the place I’m talking about will actually help. What if they can’t?” Fushimi finally asked, unable to withhold his worries anymore, “He’s fine _now_  but he’s really lost a lot of blood right? You said you knew a doctor, why not just have us meet us where we’re going and…”

“He’s not really the kind of guy we can just call up in the middle of the night. The guy owes me but I don’t wanna find out what happens when I push it,” Kusanagi said. He’d had little patience for Mikoto’s jumpiness, shooting him warning glares now and then, but Fushimi’s blatant worry was rather endearing. Kusanagi had been worried that they’d scared Fushimi completely when they dragged him out of his house–hell, when they had smashed down his door–but the kid showed an amazing amount of resilience that even adults would envy. 

Sadly, Kusanagi thought that he supposed Fushimi would have to have at least that level of resilience. If _that_ was his father. If that empty, cold mansion that looked abandoned at first glance was his home. 

But it still didn’t sit right with Kusanagi. And the older teen could tell it didn’t sit right with his friends either. Even Mikoto kept shooting the kid glances, obviously expecting him to break down any minute, to drop the relatively cool-headed facade. Kusanagi didn’t know if he was relieved the kid didn’t or disgusted. 

But this wasn’t the time for that. 

Kusanagi turned back to Totsuka’s wounds. He was better off worrying about those right now.

* * *

Fushimi, for his part, was shooting quick little looks up at the red-headed giant of a teen seated next to him. The guy had brought him nothing but trouble, but there had been something about the way he’d jumped up and saved him…

It was stupid but Fushimi couldn’t help but look at his back as he’d punched out Niki and be reminded of that loud little red-head on the bus that one time. And, like that time, Fushimi could do nothing but stare for a few minutes after it had happened. His mind had blanked. His mind never blanked. It was like he was looking some sort of avenging superhero. Suoh would shake things up, make a difference somehow. That’s what Fushimi had thought looking at him.

It was stupid.

But it was true. 

Suoh Mikoto certainly seemed to have the power to do it. To Fushimi, he seemed to glow with a supernatural energy that screamed ‘power’. Everything about him, right down to the lazy way he carried himself, screamed ’powerful’. And Fushimi had the oddest feeling that it’d have the potential to be terrifying, but he couldn’t help but be attracted to it anyways.

After all, Fushimi knew that there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t give to have this guy’s power. The power to stand up for yourself. So much power that you could save not only yourself, but others as well. 

Power that could overpower _that guy_.

But that power wasn’t his. And when this Suoh Mikoto had used it to help save Saruhiko, he’d…

‘ _You yelled at him for saving you.’_ kept pounding over and over again in his head. 

It’s stupid, it wasn’t as if he’d needed to be saved. That man wouldn’t have gone as far as to actually hurt him. He’d been dealing with this since birth. Who was this weirdo to come rampaging in all of a sudden and pass his judgment on the way things were in Fushimi’s life? Had he just minded his own business, this wouldn’t have happened.

But it wasn’t any good, the words didn’t shut up.

He took a quick peek over at Totsuka Tatara. He was looking better now that they were sitting still but he was still in pretty bad shape. The run had worsened his already tentative health. He looked half dead. 

Fushimi didn’t need to be told that had that man not been there, these three would still be camping out in an actual house instead of on the run potentially as wanted kidnappers. They hadn’t done anything wrong, which really got to Fushimi. Stupid, sure, but any normal person might have reacted the same way. It was just because they’d stepped between himself and that guy that it turned out so dangerous. 

Had that man not come back for **him** …

‘ _He’s going to destroy it all. All over again. Everything you touch, he’ll break_.”

Roiling in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice Mikoto draping a coat around him.

“You’re shivering.”

If Fushimi had been, he hadn’t noticed. It was actually relatively warm on the bus so there wasn’t any reason for him to be. Still…

“Thanks.”

“Hm.”

And Suoh Mikoto went right back to looking out the window as if it hadn’t happened. 

And Fushimi supposed he could leave it there. He should leave it there. Suoh clearly held nothing against him, not that he’d have anything to hold really. In the first place, Fushimi wasn’t even sure  _why_  he wanted to talk to the man so badly or _what_  he wanted to say. But something about leaving it all like that didn’t sit right with him.

“Thanks for… all the rest too.”

Fushimi supposed ‘all the rest’ was meant to cover protecting him as well as the coat. It sounded totally inadequate. Even to his own ears. 

Suoh Mikoto said nothing. Fushimi was starting to shrink in on himself, he could feel it.

“You know, for helping me out and stuff. I don’t _unappreciate_  it.”

Fushimi looked everywhere but at Mikoto as he said it. 

He jumped up and squeaked in indignation, cupping his right hand to his ear, when Mikoto reached over and flicked the side of his head. 

“Wasn’t a problem. Probably did more harm than good.”

Fushimi, not really thinking, carelessly said, “Yeah, that’s true.”

He saw Mikoto’s eyebrow twitch seconds before remembering he was trying to thank the guy.

“I mean, you did!”

“Hm. Got it.”

“But, well, you were _trying_  to help. In your oaf-like way, I suppose. So thanks for all that–erm–effort.”

Fushimi seriously considered changing seats if only so that he could go ramble idiotically somewhere no one else could hear him. But he couldn’t help it! This person made him nervous. And awestruck. Which really was just a pretty way to say nervous, wasn’t it?

“Whatever. Thanks. And sorry.”

Mikoto looked at Fushimi at that.

“Sorry?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“For, you know, that guy… and what happened….”

“Hm.”

And Mikoto said nothing else. It was pissing Fushimi off. He had no idea what this man wanted. What did that mean? Was he angry still? Did he accept the apology? Was he passing gas? What?!

“Whatever, okay?! Call for me if you need something, oaf,” Fushimi said as he pulled the ends on the coat together and turned to rest his head against the window.

He heard a weird rumbling noise next to him as he was about to hop out of the seat and find a new corner seat along the back where he could hide from this mess.

He looked up to see the teen next to him  _laughing._ Well, something to that effect anyways. It looked… weird. Fushimi wondered when the last time this guy cracked a smile was.

Suddenly, a muscled up arm reached over his head and hooked his shoulder on the other side. Mikoto pulled ~~the struggling~~ Fushimi into him and had him lean comfortably against his side. 

Fushimi tried to push away but he was, frustratingly enough, too weak to even make the arm budge no matter how hard he pushed or pulled. Fushimi vaguely wondered if this guy was some kind of rhinoceros mutant. He was only a teenager, for God’s sake.

“Sleep, kid. We’ll wake you when we get there.”

Fushimi, annoyed, replied, “You don’t even know where _there_  is.”

“Even I can tell when the bus reaches the last stop, you know.”

‘ _Can you really?’_

“Oh, I see,” Fushimi said out loud, “Then I can leave? Looks like you’ve got this.”

That earned him another flick to the ear. 

“Hey!”

“Mikoto,” Kusanagi scolded from across the other teen, “Don’t you go bullying kids now.”

“I’m not a kid!” Fushimi yelled out, unable to stop himself. Nothing like acting childish to prove you’re not a child.

“You’re pretty short for an adult, huh?” Mikoto asked and Fushimi could somehow _tell_  he was smiling internally.

Fushimi had to actually bite his tongue to stop himself from sniping, “You’re pretty stupid for a human being, huh?” back at the older boy. 

He was silent ~~ly pouting~~ for a while when he felt the hand on his shoulder move up and down his arm. Mikoto was rubbing his arm in what he assumed was meant to be comforting. It wasn’t. But it wasn’t terrible either. It felt… nice. It was warm and served as a reminder that he wasn’t on the bus alone.

Not this time. 

“I said sleep, brat. No more fighting.”

Fushimi wanted to snap back at the brat comment, but that took too much effort. He felt his eyes drift closed slowly, the bus motions putting him to sleep.

“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath just before shutting his eyes.

* * *

Kusanagi and Totsuka watched the little scene unfold. Totsuka had stopped Kusanagi from interfering halfway.

“It’ll be good for King to bond a bit with Fushimi, I think. Let them be. It’ll all be fine, Kusanagi-san,” Totsuka had whispered to him. 

And it looked like he was right this time. Fushimi was asleep, safe and sound, face buried in Mikoto’s side.

“Well,” Kusanagi said, “He sure conked out quick.”

“Mmm,” Totsuka agreed, “No matter how tough he is, he’s still a kid. Ahh, we’ve done something awful.”

“Child kidnapping is definitely ‘something awful’.”

“I meant dragging this poor boy around with us into our mess.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And, well…”

At the look on Totsuka’s face, Kusanagi sighed and asked, “What? What else is going wrong? Spit it out.”

“No, no, it’s no emergency.”

“Geez, spit it out anyways. You notice details most people miss. Every occasionally you catch something big. Let’s have it and let _me_  decide if it’s an emergency.”

“Such a mother.”

“Tell me or you’re grounded.”

“Aw, but mom~”

“Totsuka.”

Totsuka sighed.

“He’s getting used to us, Kusanagi-san. That house he lived in was no home. It was cold, dark, devoid of life. It was lonely, Kusanagi-san, you felt it too. And so did you, King.”

“Hm.”

Totsuka continued, “And he was used to that. But people need people, that’s my theory. Fushimi’s amazing, holding out for that long with no one and still turning out to be a good boy. A little stubborn and secretive, but good. But Kusanagi-san, what kind of child takes a bloody, beaten man into his own home and lets him stay?”

Kusanagi didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. Totsuka always arrived at his point eventually. 

“A really, really lonely one. Chances are, we’re the only ones who have ever cared about where he went in the middle of the night. Chances are, he’s never been cuddled in his sleep. He’s gaining people in his life and he’s never had them before. He’s clinging to us and getting used to having people next to him. And we’re letting him.”

Kusanagi opened his mouth to ask a question but Mikoto beat him to it.

“So why are we doing an awful thing?” 

Totsuka smiled sadly.

“Because he’ll lose us. I don’t think us keeping him was ever an option. What will happen then? How much lonelier will that house be now that he knows what having people around feels like?”

Kusanagi breathed out. With his bright smile and thousands of hobbies, it was easy to forget how cutting Totsuka could be sometimes. He didn’t know if he bought all of Totsuka’s “theory” of why they were bad people but he certainly did bring up good points. What would they do with Fushimi when all this was said and done? Where would they leave him? Who would they be leaving him with?

What would they leave him to?

“Well,” Mikoto said slowly after a slight pause, “Just make keepin’ him an option.”

“…”

“…”

Totsuka beamed.

“King! That’s a great—!”

“ **Absolutely not!** ”

So much for looking for the answers in those two.

* * *

tbc.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I’m finally back in the groove. Hopefully. So I think next chapter will be the last. I will consider picking up an AU-verse where they keep Fushimi when this is finished, but all I can promise is that I'll consider it. I have other projects in the works too plus school is starting up soon. Well, let’s see what happens. In any case, enjoy this latest installment.

Fushimi hopped off the bus and stood at the curb with his arms crossed while Mikoto carefully carried Totsuka from the bus. Mikoto had to turn to the side to get the other teen down the stairs and the movement caused Totsuka to groan a bit. The bus driver, despite already promising his silence, eyed the group worriedly and looked about to call someone. Fushimi noticed and got anxious.

“Hurry up,” he hissed at the older boys, “We need to _move_.”

Mikoto grunted, having to readjust Totsuka again and eliciting another hiss. 

“Well _excuse me_ for having a bit of trouble, your highness,” he muttered under his breath. “I sort of have my hands full with a corpse here, kid.”

“I’m alive,” Totsuka protested weakly. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” Fushimi sniped at Mikoto, completely ignoring Totsuka. “Problem is that so can anyone else so we seriously have to get inside.”

He looked around the street for any other signs of life as he spoke and only relaxed a bit after finding none.

Mikoto finally made it to the bottom of the steps and rolled his eyes as he passed Fushimi as a response. Not one to miss anything, Fushimi saw and bristled. Luckily, Kusanagi cut in while Fushimi was still debating whether or not to say anything. 

“You sure these people will take us, Fushimi? It’s not a small favor we’re asking for here.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue lightly and visibly deflated. He thought for a moment before turning to Kusanagi and saying, “I think so. I can’t be sure. But it’s the best option I got so unless we’ve any other ideas…”

The silence that followed answered that.

“Right,” Izumo sighed, “Lead on then.”

 

* * *

 

The door to the internet cafe opened and the shopkeeper looked up sharply. 

3:46 AM, her clock read. There was only one customer who ever came in this late. 

“Fushimi-chan,” the woman said as she walked down the stairs, “Another fight with your parents? Tsk tsk. Well, come in then, boy. I have some stew left and I’ll bring you something hot to drin–”

She stopped midway down the staircase to stare at the two boys flanking Fushimi. And the young, bloodied boy hanging off of his friend’s arm. Well, she assumed they were friends by the way the red-head held the injured one but there was no way to be sure. The two larger and uninjured boys had the definite look of mafia and Fushimi just looked troubled.

She reached into her pocket for her PDA and motioned for Fushimi to come to her.

“Come here, Fushimi-chan! Come away from them!”

Turning to the others, she yelled, “Don’t you try anything, I have the police right on speed dial! Let the boy go and I won’t have to call anyone!”

“Woah, woah, wait a second ma’am!” the tallest among the teenagers yelped.

The red head just grunted as if mildly inconvenienced and his friend he was holding up… giggled?

“W-wait, hold on!” Fushimi help his hand up and got between the group and the shopkeeper, “Yata-san, please wait and let me explain!”

 

* * *

 

“Set him here,” Yata Reina ordered Mikoto, motioning at a counter she’d just cleared off. She went to grab the first aid kit as Mikoto moved to obey.

Mikoto laid Totsuka down as gently as he could, ignoring the other boy’s protests that he could do it himself. Kusanagi helped with his legs. As soon as Totsuka was settled, Kusanagi began checking if any wounds reopened. Fushimi couldn’t do much more than look on. As it stood, his head barely reached the top of the counter when he stood.

Fushimi couldn’t do anything, he knew that. He didn’t even reach the basic requirement of being able to reach over the top of the counter, forget helping with anything else. No, there wasn’t anything he could do, that much was clear… 

… and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Fushimi clicked his tongue and turned to retreat back into the main lounge, away from the commotion in the kitchens. He all but threw himself into one of the lounge chairs and ~~sulked~~ opened up his PDA to kill time.

It was when he sat down and had to shift the long coat uncomfortably that he realized he was still wearing Suoh Mikoto’s jacket. He’d tried to give it back before getting off the bus but the guy had told him to keep it. That his ‘skinny little body’ would need it more. 

Fushimi clicked his tongue again, annoyed at the memory. 

“Skinny little body, my ass.”

“What’s a kid like you doing using words like that?” Mikoto asked, lumbering out of the kitchen to join said kid in the lounge. 

Fushimi felt a tingle go up his spine followed by a surge of annoyance. 

Somehow, something about Suoh in particular riled him up. Part of it was probably because the man was simply _annoying–_ teasing him with that lazy drawl and permanently etched on bored looking face–and the other part… well, he just didn’t like the teen much he supposed. They hadn’t exactly had the most stellar of first meetings, after all. And whenever Fushimi imagined the look on Suoh’s face when he had burst through the door, he still trembled a little. 

And Fushimi  _hated_  that. What was there even to be scared of? The misunderstanding had been cleared up hours ago. But even without the terrifying glare actually being there, Fushimi could still see it, could still imagine it. And there was still some raw undeniable power to Suoh that made Fushimi feel weak in his presence. He felt weak in more than one sense too. He felt weak from fear, yes, but he also felt weak because simply being in Suoh’s presence forced him to face the fact that he was, in fact, much, much, _much_ weaker than this person. That no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn’t match up. That if Suoh had wanted, he could end Fushimi and there would be _nothing_ Fushimi could do about it. And something about that made it hard for Fushimi to breathe. It made it hard for him to think of anything except for, “ _Run. Run or you’re gonna get gobbled up_.” 

He felt weak in front of this guy. He felt trapped.

Fushimi didn’t like feeling either. 

To add insult to injury, Fushimi was perfectly aware how irrational it was to be afraid still. And he was perfectly aware how irrational it was to be annoyed at Suoh for it. There was no reason to be afraid of him. He’d done nothing to hurt him. And as far as being far weaker than him, Fushimi was well aware that he was also weaker than Kusanagi and Totsuka and any relatively fit man he passed on the street on a daily basis. There was no reason for Suoh to frighten him simply by being stronger. Fushimi couldn’t even reach a counter-top; there were plenty of things stronger than him.

And Fushimi knew that it made no sense. He knew, he knew, he _knew_. But somehow that didn’t help calm his racing heart or stop the following burst of annoyance that Suoh seemed to elicit in him. 

There was something else too–another feeling that hit him every time he was in Suoh Mikoto’s presence. But Fushimi couldn’t put his finger on exactly what that feeling was. It was... warm.

Like that warm feeling he had gotten when he’d been curled up at Suoh’s side on the bus…

Realizing that he’d gotten too caught up in his own thoughts when he saw that Suoh had already made it across the room, Fushimi hurried to respond.

“What, you plan on grounding me? Washing my mouth out with soap? You going to put me in a corner or something?” Fushimi grumbled back, unable to help himself. He was too on edge and his back was still slightly sore from sleeping on a bus seat. Of course, had he not been leaning against Suoh his back would be sorer so Fushimi supposed he actually owed Suoh a ‘thank you’ for that. But didn’t paying for his bus ride even that out?

Suoh snorted and ruffled Fushimi’s hair as he passed before dropping himself on the chair next to him.

“Watch yourself, kid. I just might.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They fell into a silence again and Fushimi started to fidget. He couldn’t help but sneak glances at the older boy who, at the moment, didn’t seem to notice him at all. 

There was that feeling again. Now that Suoh wasn’t looking at him and had his focus directed elsewhere, the fear and subsequent annoyance washed away and Fushimi felt that creeping feeling come back up. It wasn’t a bad feeling either. But it did make it hard to not stare. It was like curiosity and amazement all at once. Somehow, Fushimi found the other boy impossible to look away from.

“What?” Suoh drawled, “There something fascinating about my face?”

Fushimi felt himself blush despite his efforts to clamp down on it. 

“No, not in particular.”

Suoh just grunted in response. 

Fushimi really did hate those grunts though. He didn’t know how the other two put up with it. If you have something to say and you want to express yourself, wouldn’t a normal human being know to use _words_?

Then Suoh reached over to ruffle Fushimi’s hair again, but this time he didn’t move the hand off his head after he was done.

“You did good getting us here,” Suoh told him softly.

And there was that _warm_ feeling again. And that irrational feeling that things were okay now. 

Stupid. It’d be stupid to let their guard down now. Yata-san was kind, but she was a normal woman. She could call the police any minute. She could’ve contacted them already. And of course, there was always _that man_  to worry about. Fushimi had never known him to be one to go out of his way to search for his son, but who knew when it came to him…

So it’d be stupid to feel like it’d all be okay when they were still barely making it on dumb luck.

Still. Fushimi, against his better judgement, felt himself relax a bit under that hand.

Odd, he’d been afraid no more than a few minutes ago. It did annoy him that he’d surrendered this easily to a bit of praise though.

“I can’t figure you out,” Fushimi muttered at Suoh.

“Hmph, then give up,” Suoh replied, “You don’t need to overthink stupid stuff like that.”

“You consider trying to figure out people ‘stupid stuff’?”

Suoh rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to know how other people are like. I just gotta know what I think and what I’m gonna do.”

“...and?” Fushimi asked after a slight pause.

“And what?”

Fushimi clicked his tongue yet again. “And what are you going to do?”

Mikoto didn’t say anything, but he did take out a pack of... cigarettes?

“You’re not allowed to have those,” Fushimi pointed out lightly.

Suoh grunted yet again, this time clearly amused though. “What are you gonna do? Put me in the corner?”

Fushimi felt his lips twitch upwards.

“Watch yourself or I might.”

Suoh smirked in response and shook the pack to take out a cigarette, but Fushimi reached over and swatted his hand. The move made him a bit apprehensive but the good mood gave him a bit of courage.

“Seriously, is this the kind of example you’re setting? This is a non-smoking shop and we’re already on thin ice. Unless you wan’t Yata-san to actually call the police, I’d tone down any further lawbreaking.”

‘You oaf’ felt like it’d fit perfectly there, but Fushimi was smart enough not to push it. Suoh was already putting the pack away with an annoyed expression on his face.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” Fushimi pushed onward after the pack had completely disappeared into Suoh’s pant pocket.

“What question?” Suoh drawled back, still looking (and sounding) a bit annoyed. Well, it was too late for Fushimi to back down though so he elected to ignore the annoyance rolling off the older teen.

“About what you’re going to do now.”

Suoh grunted and seemed to be thinking for a few seconds before coming back with, “I don’t know. Kusanagi’s usually the one with the plan.”

Fushimi couldn’t believe his ears. “ _I don’t need to know how other people are like. I just gotta know what I think and what I’m gonna do_ ,” his ass! In the end this idiot didn’t think at all! Fushimi wondered how someone so moronic could’ve possibly made it to, what was it, fifteen? Had he been born some animal, like a chicken or something, he’d have been the chick that was weeded out and pecked to death.

“You should be grateful for your status as a human being,” Fushimi muttered darkly, “You’d have never made it as a chicken.”

“Uh, what?”

Just then a call sounded from the kitchen. 

“Suoh-kun! Fushimi-chan! He’ll be okay, you two can come in and fully explain things to be now, if you please.”

Despite the politeness of the wording, the tone left no room for argument. Both boys stood and made their way to the kitchen.

“Seriously though, what was that about a chicken?”

“Forget it, just be grateful.”

 

* * *

 

“So... they knocked out your father... grabbed you... and you just went with them?”

Fushimi fidgeted a little. “Um, Yata-san, about my father...” he started, looking pained as if every word stung the inside of his mouth a little. 

Yata Reina held up a hand, stopping Fushimi from elaborating. She’d been waiting for this boy to open up for months, waiting for an opportunity to do something for him, but not like this. The boy in front of her looked more distraught than she’d ever seen him. Which was incredible, considering he always came alone at two or three in the morning after a “fight with his parents”.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Fushimi-chan. I can’t say I have no idea what kind of man you father must be. You never talked about him and you never had bruises nor did you ever look underfed so I didn’t want to push it, but I could guess.”

She sighed before saying, “I won’t even let my Misaki walk home alone. I can’t imagine what kind of horrible man lets his nine year old sleep in internet cafes for weeks on end.”

Fushimi went quiet and couldn’t seem to meet Reina’s eyes. 

“Just tell me this,” Reina continued, “You trust these men?”

Fushimi glanced back and forth between everyone in the group and gave a slow, grudging nod.

Reina breathed out slowly. Fushimi was smart. She hadn’t known the boy for long but she’d only needed to know him for a few hours to figure that out. He was smart and quick on his feet. And in all honesty, she didn’t feel any ill intent from the three teens either. The one called Tatara was honestly quite charming and the one called Izumo was honestly very charming. He reminded her of her current husband on their first date. Very flattering and very attentive. And the quiet boy Izumo called Mikoto, well, she liked the way he seemed to almost shield Fushimi with his own body, making sure he was always somewhere between Fushimi and herself. It’d annoy her a little ( _he’s_ the suspicious one no matter which way you looked at it) if it didn’t relieve her so much. 

“Ok. Ok. I have some extra blankets stashed somewhere, I’ll go pull those out. Stay as long as you need, I’ll close shop tomorrow.”

Kusanagi started to protest. “You don’t have to, we won’t be here--”

Reina held up a silencing hand. 

“Whether you’re here or not, Kusanagi-kun, I’ll be needing a break after tonight. I’ll go get those blankets.”

She left the boys in the kitchen. Kusanagi turned to Fushimi and gave him a look, as if asking if it was okay with him. Fushimi shrugged in response and moved to sit on the floor, against the oven, and pulled out his phone, effectively cutting out the other three. 

 

* * *

 

Fushimi blinked. It was dark and his neck had the most uncomfortable crick. He turned his head to the right and heard an alarming ‘crack’ come from his stiff neck. On his left, where he had been resting his head, was an oven. A couch pillow laid on the floor next to it. As Fushimi shook himself awake, he also noticed a blanket tucked around him. 

Fushimi righted his skewed glasses and, as his eyes adjusted to being awake, Fushimi was able to make out the figures of Kusanagi and Mikoto. Mikoto was laid out flat on the floor, a few feet from him in the hallway. And Kusanagi... Kusanagi was to his left, right next to him, an arm slung over Fushimi’s own shoulders. They were sharing a blanket. 

Well, “sharing”. Fushimi had about three-fourths of the blanket all to himself in truth. 

Kusanagi looked cold....

Fushimi scoffed and frowned. If this guy was gonna treat him like a little child, then let him live with being cold. It’s what he deserved for being so patronizing. Fushimi managed to shake himself free and stood up. 

...and immediately dove back under the blanket. It was _cold_. He didn’t do so well with cold. Or heat. Or temperatures of any extremes.

Well, he supposed he could settle down for a few more hours. He could see the sunligh peeking through the window behind him. They’d all have to be up in a bit anyways and sitting still never bothered Fushimi. He pulled the blankets closer to him and tried to get comfortable. 

He actually managed to get pretty comfy and was scrolling down his phone when suddenly,

**CLUNK**

A dull clang sounded through the house. It sounded like it had come from down the hall. Was Yata-san already up? 

**THUD**

Well, if she was then she was certainly being clumsy. Fushimi waited a few more minutes, holding his breath for some dumb reason. 

Nothing. 

Something must’ve fallen. Or maybe Yata-san tripped on her way to the bathroom. Totsuka wasn’t in the room either. Fushimi had assumed they’d moved him to the couch, him being injured and all, and Fushimi doubted someone that injured could get anywhere on his own power, but maybe the idiot had tried to get up only to be knocked back on his ass.

And yet he was still holding his breath, his heart going a mile a minute. 

‘ _Ahhh, what the hell?_ ’ Fushimi thought to himself, ‘ _This is annoying._ ’

If that idiot Totsuka had gotten up in that state, then he could live with the consequences and it was none of Fushimi’s business. Still...

Still, Fushimi couldn’t seem to calm down. He groaned inwardly as he stood up again, this time grabbing the blanket and pulling it around himself like a cape. He was just gonna take a look. After all, he’d only known him for one night, but it somehow seemed just like Totsuka to try to do something moronic like try to go to the bathroom himself with a broken and shoddily treated leg. And Fushimi came all the way here to help the guy right? What a miserable ending it’d be if Totsuka just up and died here, when they were finally to safety, from his own stupidity no less. Fushimi just wanted to check out what was happening. If for nothing else then to make sure that he hadn’t wasted all this time trying to save the guy for nothing. That was all. Just a peek. He wasn’t worried or something stupid like that. 

And that childish fear he was still feeling was just that: childish. He was sure there was no basis to it and now he was going to confirm that and catch a bit more rest before more disaster inevitably came raining down on him.

Fushimi made it halfway across the kitchen before he heard Kusanagi shudder behind him. 

Well, tough shit. Fushimi was cold too. And besides, this was all to check up on _Kusanagi’s_ friend. 

...actually, _no_. It wasn’t. He wasn’t checking up or anything. He just wanted a look, to lay his own fears to rest. And if Totsuka really did manage to step in it? Then Kusanagi would need to be woken up anyways to fix whatever had happened, thus totally negating the need for a blanket. 

Kusanagi shuddered again and Fushimi grit his teeth.

"Cut it out,” he mumbled as he headed into the hallway.

The idea came over him as he was stepping around Suoh’s sleeping form. Here was another blanket. From what he remembered from the bus ride, Suoh was like a human furnace anyways. Fushimi could feel the heat coming off him just standing near him. And besides, robbing Suoh of a blanket would hardly make him feel bad. Kusanagi was admittedly cool. Suoh was just annoying. And hard to figure out. Which only made him _more_ annoying. And he could feel an admittedly childish glee bubble up at the thought of getting one over big, “strong” Suoh. 

...

...Fushimi wondered if this is what  _that man_ would’ve felt in the same situation. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

Fushimi huffed quietly. Suoh could keep his stupid blanket. Why did Fushimi even want the thing in the first place? Souh looked like he was sweating all over the nasty thing.

Then Fushimi heard Kusanagi shudder yet again. 

Fushimi turned to look at Kusanagi, who was now curled up into a ball. He angrily wondered if it was even that cold. Wasn’t Kusanagi nearly an adult? Was he really that weak? That pathetic?

It occurred almost immediately to Fushimi that that was a pretty pathetic thing to think while he himself had draped a blanket around his shoulders just to walk to the other room. Fushimi harshly yanked the blanket from his shoulders. He stomped over to where Kusanagi lay and all but threw the blanket over him. 

“There,” Fushimi muttered as the blanket settled over the still-sleeping Kusanagi, “Don’t say I never did anything for you.” 

Fushimi felt sort of dumb for saying it the moment the words left his mouth. As if the guy could hear him. Besides, even if he had been awake, Fushimi knew full well he probably could have made the argument that he was only cold in the first place due to Fushimi taking the blankets away and Fushimi would’ve had no answer to that. That he’d lost a not-even-an-argument to the not-even-conscious, imaginary Kusanagi irked ~~and embarrassed~~ Fushimi a bit and he promptly turned to continue searching for the source of the noise he’d heard.

He made his way slowly down the hallway. It was dark and he didn’t want to turn on the lights and disturb Yata-san. As if they needed to give her more reasons to kick them out. As it stood, it already looked like Fushimi wouldn’t be coming back here any time soon. He’d be surprised of Yata-san lets him through the door again after this escapade. 

Well, that did raise the question of where he was supposed to go the next time he left home...

“... it’s not like this is the only internet cafe there is,” Fushimi muttered to himself, still slowly walking down the hall. Caught up in his own thoughts, the sudden--

**THUD**

\--almost sent him running back to the kitchen. He might have screamed too. Fushimi felt a flash of annoyance at himself. It was just a stupid noise. It could’ve come from anywhere. But he didn’t have very long to dwell on how annoyed he was. 

There, on the floor, was Yata Reina. And she definitely wasn’t sleeping. Fushimi wasn’t close enough to say for sure, but he could’ve sworn he saw blood gushing from her abdomen.

“What--what the--” was all Fushimi was able to say before a figure came out of the room right behind Yata-san’s unconscious body. 

Gigantic, the figure was gigantic. And even with the bare amount of sunlight he had to work with, Fushimi could make out the green scales that covered the... _thing’s_  arms and shoulders. It’s abnormally large and round eyes were practically bulging out of its head and, as whatever this thing was walked over to him and leaned down to get a good look at his face, Fushimi could make out a... forked tongue? It peaked out of the corner of the thing’s lips. 

Fushimi turned, suddenly all his instincts kicked in and were telling him to run, but it was too late. The lizard-thing grabbed him by the arm and Fushimi could feel the scales on it palms.

“Well, well,” the lizard-thing said. Fushimi felt his blood run cold. He could swear he recognized that voice...

“If it isn’t the brat from that house we searched earlier,” lizard-thing hissed through clenched teeth.

“Hmph, I _told_  him we shoulda just barged in,” lizard-thing muttered under his breath. 

No way. No _way_. If this was one of the guys that Fushimi had fooled, Fushimi was sure he’d remember him. This wasn’t a _man_ , this was a _thing_. A veritable monster.

The monster focused his attention on Fushimi. “So, you little pissant brat, got any more clever lies up your sleeve?”

Fushimi’s head was abuzz with ideas, suggestions. Each more ridiculous than the last. He had to move. He had to get away. He had to... to...

Fushimi sucked in a deep breath. His arm was trapped and there was no way he could get out, no matter how hard he pulled. There was only one thing left.

“HEY!!! GET UP!!! MOVE IT!!!”

Lizard-thing hissed again. 

“What the hell? Zip it, brat,” it said and shook Fushimi. Hard.

Fushimi was embarrassingly sure the noise he made was akin to a pig squealing. He could feel the scales on the thing’s palms cut into the skin of his arms every time it shook him. 

Though his pain-induced haze, Fushimi made out some noise and the barest bit of movement from down the hall. 

“What the hell, kid,” the low voice of Suoh rumbled down the hall, “You’re making quite a bit’a...”

Suoh switched on the hallway lights and fell silent. Fushimi ustered up all the panic he had and screamed again.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THIS THING IS--mmmmm!”

Lizard-thing slapped his hand down over Fushimi’s mouth. Fushimi could taste the blood from the newly formed cuts on his lips.

Damn, that stung. 

“Hey,” Suoh said, loud and clear this time, “Let the kid go.”

Lizard-things--as if it wasn’t nightmarish already-- _smiled_ and showed off its rows of sharp teeth. 

“Come here and _make_  me.”

* * *

tbc.

* * *

 


End file.
